


Closing Arguments, or How Nick Miller Got to Go Home Again.

by pulpobsessed



Category: New Girl
Genre: Alternate Universe, Break Up, Broken Engagement, Engagement, F/M, Internal Monologue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 03:39:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3835618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pulpobsessed/pseuds/pulpobsessed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick Miller would do anything for Jessica Day. That is an irrefutable fact….</p><p>This is an AU fic that takes place at some point in the future. After Nick nearly ruins his relationship, his subconscious works overtime to help him fix his screw up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Closing Arguments, or How Nick Miller Got to Go Home Again.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first newly published piece of fiction in a long time - it just came to me while I was watching reruns of season three and I had to write it down. 
> 
> Nick is wonderful to write and I'm incredibly pleased with how this came out. 
> 
> Please read and review - your comments help inspire more writing!
> 
> There will probably be an epilogue at some point. 
> 
> Note: When Nick is speaking, any italics are his internal voice and when Nick's internal voice is speaking, any italics are Nick's external voice. Once you start reading - it gets clearer.
> 
> ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

_Nick Miller would do anything for Jessica Day. That is an irrefutable fact…._

It was starting again. That insufferable, unrelenting, soul sucking internal monologue that had plagued Nick for the last twenty days. A monologue that not only seemed to relish taunting him over the biggest fuck up he’d ever made, but also mock him by pretending his entire life was some kind of courtroom drama that is forever stuck repeating the closing arguments to a case that he’s forever destined to lose.

Which would make for the worst Groundhog Day sequel ever. 

After a while Nick had just started referring to the voice as “Inner Lawyer Nick” - or ILN for short - which meant that something about his legal education had actually rubbed off, even just a little bit. And if “Inner Lawyer Nick” was any indication, he would have made a very good, very persistent attorney. 

At first he had tried ignoring “Inner Lawyer Nick’s” diatribe, but ignoring it just made it worse. It got louder and louder and more incessant, but just listening to it was quite clearly the absolute worst idea as it seemed to induce a nearly catatonic state, which if he was going to actually act on ILN’s advice was probably not the best thing imaginable. So, in an effort to avoid total paralysis, he started having what generally amounted to a one sided conversation with “Inner Lawyer Nick”, hoping that by responding to what was going on in his head ILN might actually offer some real, concrete advice as to what he should do. How he might fix this whole situation. 

Thus far, ILN had given him fuck all...except a constant reminder of the horrible a mess that Nick had made of his life. 

He could hear ILN winding down, coming to the climax of his argument, asking those final questions of his jury - which are whom exactly(?) - in an effort to convince them of his point. A point that Nick was all too aware of by now. Sighing, Nick reached out from where he was lying on the couch to grab his phone from the coffee table, which he did almost every time ILN finished his closing argument, unlocking it to stare at old text messages, wishing he had the fucking nerve to write a new one. His fingers hovered over the screen for a moment, desperate to start typing something - anything - but as always his mind went completely blank and he let the phone slip back down onto the coffee table.  

Groaning, Nick closed his eyes and prepared himself for ILN’s onslaught to start again. He had maybe a few more minutes of silence before the voice started up again. And maybe this time he could actually force ILN to make a real suggestion and help him figure this all out, to help him fix it. Maybe…he could get ILN to help him think of something to say...something to make her come back. 

Nick groaned and pressed his palms to his eyes as the voice started up again.  

 

 ******************************************************************

Nick Miller would do anything for Jessica Day. That is an irrefutable fact….

No. Scratch that. 

Nick Miller would do anything to get Jessica Day back.

There. That’s an irrefutable fact.

It is a fact that Nick Miller cannot escape from, no matter what he tells himself. The facts of his life, or rather the facts of what makes his life worth living all lead back to Jessica Day. Silly, funny, beautiful, amazing, crazy, quirky Jessica Day.... 

_*You forgot perfect...she’s also perfect, you should really start including that.*_

...This is a fact that he has grown to love and cherish and value above all others. But somehow, this fact did not keep him from destroying his perfect life with his perfect girl. 

_*I’m sorry…*_

The sheer amount of unquestionable facts that he has to live with can appear overwhelming: 

_*They are.*_

Nick Miller had found the best thing in the world - being with Jessica Day. That is a fact.

Nick Miller was happy. 

However, is still Nick Miller. And that is perhaps the most important fact in this equation.

Therefore, Nick Miller could not help himself and despite being happy, he ruined his perfect relationship.

And that sadly, is a fact that inevitably leads to the recognition that Nick Miller broke Jessica Day’s heart. 

_*I hate you, you fucker…*_

These facts are what Nick Miller has to live with. 

_*I don’t want to live with it, okay…*_

Today, I will lay  out the facts of Nick Miller’s broken heart. A heart that got broken by no one other than himself, which he managed to do while simultaneously breaking the heart of Jessica Day. We will attempt to get to the heart of the matter, which is: Is Nick Miller’s heart a lost cause? And does he deserve the chance to fix this - does he even deserve to be happy?

_*You really don’t sugar coat this, do you?*_  

Which brings it all back to that first important irrefutable fact: Nick Miller would do anything to get Jessica Day back.

_*I would. Anything - literally anything.*_

I mean, let’s be honest here, and please pardon my language, but he fucked up. He fucked up big time. He knows that. Holy, crap, does he know that. 

_*I fucked it up. And I’m pretty sure any judge out there would toss you out of his courtroom for that language Mr. ILN.*_

Let’s briefly talk about their history. Nick Miller and Jessica Day were together for a brief amount of time before they broke up the first time, but their reconciliation as a couple should demonstrate that Nick Miller has it in him to not only take decisive action, but do things that are rarely even seen in the climactic moments of romantic comedies. Namely, Nick Miller won Jessica Day back. But that story, ladies and gentlemen, is not our focus today - it has no baring on whether Nick Miller can unbreak the hearts littered around him - and so we will leave it to be told another day. 

_*Couldn’t you tell it now? It is such a fantastic story...I always sound so good in it.*_

He wanted to be strong enough to make it work, he really really did. He tried so hard to make it work...and it was working, until he let it implode. 

_*Yeah…Boom…or whatever.*_

Three years. They had been together for three years. Three perfect years. And every single day had felt like a dream - a really awesome dream. 

_*It if was all a dream, then I fucking really hate being awake...and shouldn’t you be telling me things to help me?*_

They had become a couple in every way possible. Having gotten over the things that drove them apart once before, both Nick and Jessica knew they had to make a real effort to not always second guess each others’ actions or admit that while things didn’t have to always be perfect or had to be always on exactly the same page. Rather, that loving each other and recognizing that their differences could actually make their love for each other stronger…and that love made for a very powerful foundation for a real relationship was enough to help them start building a life. 

_*Could we skip this next part please? I hate it…*_

I’d like to present exhibit A, a series of occurrences that demonstrate the commitment both Nick and Jessica had for this relationship. I hope that this list will clearly begin to show how deeply the ties of love and devotion are between them. 

It will show, in short, that together they had truly begun building life. 

_*Please stop...this part...it hurts, ok? I know I ruined it...tell me how to fix it, not how I fucked it up!*_

She had helped him find classes to take so he could start building his own business. 

He had spent an entire weekend helping her make costumes for her class’ production of Romeo and Juliet. 

She had gone with him the day he applied for a small business loan for his bar…holding his hand the whole time, and buying him a bottle of champagne when it got approved.

He had willingly chaperoned Jess’ new step-mom around Hollywood after Jess panicked and claimed she had to supervise detention on a Saturday. 

She had pretty much taught herself carpentry so she could help him renovate the bar he’d leased. Unsurprisingly, she was better at it then he was. 

They had argued when she found out he was planning on naming the bar “Jess’ Place” because she said it was weird and what was he going to do if they ever broke up...He gave her the silent treatment for a week after that comment. 

*funny how things turned out, huh?*

She had framed the first dollar bill he’d made at the bar, which he hung next to a photograph of them behind the bar. Both are still there. 

One morning, after listening to Schmidt awkwardly try to get his one night stand to leave, he had turned to her in bed and said: “Will you move out with me?”

She had smiled and said, “Yes. And can we have a crafting room?”

He had found the perfect apartment one afternoon and camped out there during an open house for five hours to prevent anyone else from taking it before she could get there so they could sign a lease. 

On their second anniversary, they had gone together to get a cat - a cat whose sole purpose in life apparently wasto ingest glitter and then puke it up everywhere in their apartment...but damn if he didn’t love that cat because Jess loved that cat. 

_*I still think we should never have named that cat Sparkles...we were only asking for it, it was like tempting fate*_

One night, six months after they got the cat, while cleaning up the fourth glitter hairball of the night, he asked her to marry him.

She cried, then said yes. 

_*The single best moment of my life.*_

And yet, eight months later, he was single again and sleeping on a futon in his old room in the loft. 

So, there you have it, the facts of Nick Miller’s perfect dream life. A life that lies in ruins around him now. Yet, the question remains: Why is Nick Miller single again? Why did he let himself screw up the best part of his entire life? 

Thirteen little words, ladies and gentlemen. Thirteen words. 

“Jess, I just can’t do this. I’m sorry, but I can’t marry you.” 

_*I want to take those fucking words back so bad…*_

A lie. 

_*It was a lie, Jess, just a damn lie. I never meant it.*_

A very stupid lie. One he should have backed out of as soon as it left his mouth. But we all know that’s not what happened.

_*I wanted to. But it was like, once it was out there in the world it took on its own life - I had no control over it!*_

He let that lie grow. He let it grow into an argument. A huge, earth shattering argument that got bigger and bigger until his world was shattered. 

_*I don’t want to remember this part.*_  

To demonstrate the degree to which Nick irreparably damaged his perfect life, I’d like to play for you now a snippet of the conversation that took place between Nick and Jessica twenty days ago. 

_*No…please…*_

I present to you, Exhibit B. 

_“_ You don’t want to marry me, Nick?”

“I...its just so much!”

“Yes or no, Nick?”

“I mean, we have to realistic here! Marriage ends in divorce, right? What marriage lasts now a days? Isn’t it better to just cut our losses and run?”

“Ours would have.”

“What?”

“Ours would have lasted.”

“Jess…”

“Can you go? Please? This is...this hurts too much.”

Are these the words of a man who is acting with honest intentions or the words of a man who is buried underneath his own cowardice? Are these the words of a man who was capable of fighting for the relationship that he claims makes him happier than he had ever been before in his life?

_*Why didn’t I stay? Why didn’t I fight?*_

These are the words of a sad, scared man. And so, he left. 

_*Why, fuck, why did I leave?!_ *

Now, a reasonable man would have gone back and begged for forgiveness. Explained what was going on in his mind. A reasonable man would have told her that he loved her and say all the amazing things he thought and felt about her. But, ladies and gentlemen, Nick Miller is no reasonable man - or at least he’s not when he doesn’t have Jessica Day there to help him be reasonable…

_*The word you’re actually thinking of is stupid.*_

…Instead, he let the lie get bigger and bigger until a package arrived at the bar with her engagement ring in it. 

_*I thought I was dying that day.*_

He took a week off, leaving the bar in the capable hands of Jimmy, the bar manager. He then drank his way into oblivion for the next seven days.

_*I got scared. Ok? Is that what you want me to admit to? That I was scared. That was why I drank...because I realized what I’d done…and I had no idea how to fix it…and it fucking scared me. She sent the ring back…she sent it back…fuck.*_                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               

It should be pointed out that the bar, ladies and gentlemen, is a mere 20 minutes by car to the apartment Nick and Jess once shared. It is approximately an hour on foot. He could have easily arrived at the apartment to beg for forgiveness and explain himself. Even if that effort had been futile, it would have been worth a shot. 

_*Would it…*_

This was a journey that he, in fact, took numerous times. Standing outside the building he still had a key to, the apartment that still had his name attached to it...where a woman inside was sitting alone wondering exactly what was happening. Wondering how the man she loved so much was letting this happen. But every time Nick Miller stood outside that building he couldn’t make himself walk inside.

_*Do you know what its like to stand in front of the place you consider to be your home and not be sure if you’re even welcome inside anymore?*_

Why, you ask, did he not do this? Because when Nick Miller received that ring in the mail, to him it meant Jess had decided it was over and nothing he could do could convince her otherwise. 

_*But I wanted to go and talk to her. Oh, God how I wanted to. Why didn’t I? Just why didn’t I?*_

Because he didn’t deserve it. 

_*Fuck you…fuck you!  But I don’t…do I?*_

And right there, you have the crux of the reason why Nick Miller no long has Jessica Day in his life. He sincerely and honestly believe that he does not deserves Jessica Day in his life. Instead, he firmly believes that he deserves to be alone, to be loveless, to pine silently for the only woman who has ever made him truly happy, to be seen as a pathetic fool who always runs away from a challenge. 

_*No, I don’t believe that anymore...I’ve seen what its like without her, I’ve see how awful this is. I don’t want this. I want her back. God, I want to be happy. I made a mistake. I would run to her right now, if she would let me.*_

Is Nick Miller a timid man?

No

Is Nick Miller incapable of love?

No.

Does Nick Miller deserve to be with Jessica Day? 

The answer to that is a bit more complex than merely yes or no. Nonetheless, I think the answer is clear, don’t you? Of course he does. But the problem is, however, how he intends to actually accomplish this. 

*I don’t know…I need help. Fuck…just help me!*

We must ask the question, ladies and gentlemen, how will Nick Miller fix this? 

Nay, the question should be...can Nick Miller fix this?  

********************************* 

“How the fuck am I going to fix this?” Nick’s voice, rough with tears, echoed in the empty loft - breaking him, for the first time all day, from hearing Inner Lawyer Nick’s voice. He’s damn surprised he hasn’t gone totally insane yet. Perhaps, all that’s keeping him sane is that every time his brain starts parading his beaten and broken heart across his subconscious, he tries to get ILN to say something else - to give him some idea as to what he should do.  

For nearly twenty days now, he’s been begging for advice. This is own damn brain, after all, there has to be something in there besides his ability to relive his failings. Unless he’s so damn sure that he’ll never be able to fix this that his brain has just reserved itself to living the rest of his life in an ocean of regret. 

Nick groaned and rolled onto his side and closed his eyes. But closing his eyes meant seeing her face...her face at that exact moment when he told the lie. The lie he should have taken back. The lie that had been as deadly as a bullet. 

The image of her face as her heart shattered was imprinted onto the back of his eyelids. And he knew that any second Inner Lawyer Nick was going to start again...

“Please stop…I’m sorry...I don’t want to keep hearing this.” 

But the monologue was already starting again…

_…Nick Miller would do anything for Jessica Day…_  

Leaping off the couch, he let out a scream of frustration and started pacing...pressing the palms of his hands against his eyes, groaning in frustration. 

“How do I make this stop? How..How...How!?” Nick’s voice got louder and louder until it boomed throughout the empty loft. And yet, as he stood perfectly still with his hands clenched at his sides, he found his inner monologue had suddenly fallen silent. 

Unaccustomed to this lack of an internal dialogue, Nick slowly became aware of his uneven breathing, the heavy rise and fall of his chest and the slight ringing in his ears. Then, just as the silence became almost unbearable, Inner Lawyer Nick spoke up again... 

_*Get her back…*_

The sheer surprise that his subconscious had suddenly given voice to the one unuttered idea that had been sitting heavily on his tongue for weeks was immobilizing. ILN had actually given voice - given life - to the one iota of hope he still had. He stopped moving, stopped breathing. Waiting. Was that it? Or did his subconscious have some other gem of brilliance to help him. He stood, silent, waiting...hoping...

But the voice was silent. 

Nick waited...and waited…

“How..?”

The sound of his own voice surprised him...the silence which answered him did not. 

After a few moments of silence, Nick sighed, resigned. 

Then…

_*Say something nice.*_

Huh?

Holy crap. 

_*Do something nice.*_  

Nick groaned. Yeah, this made sense. What other form would the nervous breakdown that he knew was coming take but having a conversation with his imaginary inner lawyer friend. And of course, his fucking nervous break down would be some some vague self-reflective version of Dear Abby...exactly what he didn’t want or need. 

And of course he could say or do something nice. But was it even worth it at this point? Jess would probably slam the door in his face rather than actually listen to him. They hadn’t talked in almost a month, like zero contact, so how likely was it that she would even want to hear from him...out of the blue...just so he could say something nice.

_*She likes it when you say nice things.*_

Oh god, this is worst than Inner Lawyer Nick’s damn monologue. 

_*You have to start somewhere, Miller.*_

Ugh. Now, not only was he having an internal conversation with himself, but he had started referring to himself as Miller...which was (is) something Jess usually does, especially when she’s mad at him. He really was going insane.

_*Look at the facts, Miller. Look at the facts.*_

This again... 

_*…Nick Miller would do anything to get Jessica Day back….*_

Oh god no…

But the monologue did not continue. It simply fell silent. 

He waited, but the silence continued. 

“Any ideas on how to start?” 

Yeah, he was completely aware that he was now actually trying to engage himself in a full blown conversation. He might be crazy, but hey, talking to himself had worked so far. 

_*Text her.*_

Huh, so that actually worked? Nick decided to keep going - maybe his subconscious liked a little back and forth. “Text her? Seriously, That’s your idea? What would I say, ‘Hey, Jess, so sorry about freaking out and pretty much ending our engagement...I’m tots sorry, wanna hang?’ I’m a 34 year old man! Not a 16 year old teenager!”

_*Text her.*_

Nick sank down onto the couch, moaning. Did his subconscious actually think that a text message was going to work? He knew he had to do or try something...otherwise he’d be a sad pathetic fuckall that let the only thing worth having in his life get away. But would it actually work...would a text message or just saying something nice actually work? Or was he being delusional?  

_*Only one way to find out.*_

By now, Nick had just accepted the whole talking to himself as commonplace. if anything, maybe Jess would forgive him after he’d been admitted to the psychiatric ward. 

He reached out and grabbed his phone from the coffee table and opened messaging. Tapping on her name he saw their last messages had been 25 days ago and have been about the cat and dinner.

**I forgot to pick up Sparkles’ ring worm medicine, can you grab it? Also, dinner…?**

**Although I do consider ringworm medicine to be a staple in anyone’s diet, how about we throw something else in there...Thai?**

**Don’t be an asshat. And Thai sounds good.**

Nick actually felt himself chuckle despite know that five days later, he ended up being an even bigger asshat…

His fingers hovered over the keyboard, unsure of exactly what to type. Maybe, “I love you?” or “I miss you.” or “I’m sorry.” or even “You are so fucking perfect it hurts to think about it and I am such an idiot for throwing that away.”

His finger tapped the “I” key...and that was as far as he got. How on earth would he actually manage to convey everything he felt in a single text message. 

Sighing he leaned forward to toss the phone back on the table...until he noticed that the little symbol telling him that she was typing something had popped up. 

...oh…

...oh fuck…

...oh fuckity fuck 

He pulled the phone back, staring at the screen...waiting...hoping…

**Sparkles misses you.**

That was it. 

The cat. That damn vomit filled cat that ruined almost every pair of Toms that Jess brought into the house. But…it was genius. Of course. Using the cat to reconnect. The cat was neutral ground. It was…something they could start a conversation with. 

And suddenly, Nick knew exactly what he had to do. He started tying...

**I miss Sparkles.**

He hit send. And he waited. 

Nothing. No little typing bubble. 

Seconds...minutes…

Nothing. 

Then, ILN piped up - _*Go further.*_

He muttered aloud, “Fuck you Inner Lawyer Nick..”

So he typed, **But I miss you more.**  

Again he waited. 

Fuck, he’d gone too far. Pushed too much. He should never have listed to ILN…

Just as he was about to toss his phone down and go see if Schmidt had any beer left, is phone vibrated.I miss you too. Can we talk? Please?

He let out a strangled sob. Holy...was this working? How was this working? 

He started to bash out a reply - **Yes. Please, whe** … but before he could actually finish it, the phone rang. And suddenly, he was looking at one of his favorite photos of her - she was wearing a Christmas cracker crown and making a ridiculous face...god, he loved her. 

He couldn’t help but smile, despite knowing he was probably about to have one of the most difficult conversations of his entire life. 

He pressed Answer. 

“Hi…”  

**********************************

Nick was silent. The sound of her voice on the other end of the phone had rendered him mute and dumb. He opened his mouth, hoping something - anything - would come out of it. Instead, it hung there, agape, as his eyes begin to burn with that now familiar sensation of tears beginning to pool. 

“Nick?” Her voice again. Speaking to him. Saying his name. 

He closed his mouth. Maybe if he opened it again he’d actually make a sound.

He snapped his mouth shut, his teeth slamming together, which sent a sharp spike of pain along his jaw. His mind reeled...processing the fact that on the other end of this phone was the woman he loved more than anything...and the fact that it had been more than thirty seconds since he answered and he had yet to actually say something. 

...come on Inner Lawyer Nick, where are all your bright ideas now? Help me…

He heard her sigh softly into the phone… “Alright, well this has been stimulating..goodb…”

“Don’t hang up!”

Ok, so he did have the ability to speak. Good. That’s good. Progress. Now, say something else.

“Jess…”

Yup. That’s her name...good job, Miller. 

“Yes?”

“I...I don’t know. I just…I'm so happy to hear your voice.”

“Thank you...its…” She sighs softly...a sound that makes his stomach drop and his heart swell and his brain get a little dizzy. “well I’m really happy to hear yours too.”

Yup, definitely dizzy. 

He opened his mouth to reply, but once again nothing came out. He tried it again, same result. What the fuck is the matter with him? He can talk to her about anything...literally anything!

“Nick? Are you still there…”

SAY SOMETHING!

“Uh..yes...uh…”

“Look...if I’m disturbing you I can go…”

 “No. No, please don’t. I’m sorry. I...its just...that...uh...I don’t know what to say.”

“Oh. Well maybe then there isn’t anything to say.” Her voice had a sudden edge to it...he was seconds away from blowing this. 

“No! That’s not what I meant...I’m sorry...I...fuck, what is the matter with me...Jess...I have so much I want to say, I just don’t know HOW to say it.”

“And you think I do?”

“You’re better at this whole articulating yourself thing…”

“You’re better than you realize.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Nick…”

He sighs again, this has the potential to go very bad very quickly. He has to do something...start small. 

“I saw you were texting me…”

“Well, you were texting me.”

“Oh, yeah. I was…I think about texting you almost every single day.”

“I do too.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes, Nick. Every single day. I constantly stare at my phone, wanting to text you, hating that the last thing I get read from you is a message about the cat’s stupid ringworm medicine. I hate that. So, yes Nick, I do think about messaging you. And when I saw you were actually messaging me...I finally got the nerve to do it.”

Nick’s mouth opens...he can’t afford another vocal paralytic moment, he needs to actually say something. Say something...right.

“Thank you, Jess.”

“For what?”

“For messaging me. I really means a lot.”

“Thank you for answering your phone.” 

“I almost didn't - I got kind of distracted by your picture - the one with the paper crown.”

“Oh, right, from our very British Christmas last year.” 

“Yeah - that’s the one.”

She sighs - apparently this entire conversation is pretty much just going to be punctuated by sighs from the both of them. 

They both let a wall of silence build up. Neither of them entirely sure how to go forward from here...There was so much still to be said. So much they didn’t know how to actually say. 

But Nick knew he needed to be a little bold, just a little, but exactly how he wasn’t sure…hence the silence. 

_*Say something nice.*_ Ah, right. Forgot about Inner Laywer Nick for a moment...this time it was actually the right advice. So, fine...here goes….

“I don’t deserve you.”

What?! Wait! That wasn’t what he wanted to say. For real...out of all the things you could possibly say, Miller, that’s what you went with. The one line of thinking that got you into this whole mess in the first place. Well fuck…why couldn’t he had said something about how pretty she is or whatever...but not that 

“God...you’re an idiot Miller. You have no idea, do you?” She sounded resigned to this fact.

“No idea about what?” 

“That there is no such thing as one person deserving another, that’s just...well..bullshit.” Her voice was starting to sharply rise, and she was swearing...she was definitely on the track to angry-Jess head space. 

“Jess…”

“No. Shut up. Just shut up. Be quiet for a minute. Just one goddamn minute.” 

“Sorry…”

He could hear her breathing heavily on the other end of the phone. In his mind he pictured her - probably perched on the edge of their (or was it only her’s now) sofa, wrapped in her favorite purple and white blanket with maybe a cooling cup of tea next to her - her chunky black glasses pushed slightly askew because she’s rubbing her eyes in frustration at him. Her brow - which never actually gets creased - would have a tiny little line in it and her lips would be set in a hard line. Normally, when she’s in angry-Jess headspace, she would be twirling her engagement ring around on her finger, but since the engagement ring is currently living in its box inside his backpack, who knows what she’s nervously playing with. 

She sighs, again. Then mutters so softly that he barely hears her, and perhaps he is not meant to hear her, “Dammit, Miller, you really made a mess of this. 

Again, he says quietly, “Sorry.”

“Why?” The question sounds simple enough, but there are so many different why’s layered on top of one another - too many, perhaps, to even begin unpacking right now. He considers for a moment merely answering the most simple of them - why he said sorry in response to her muttering, but he knows that’s not what she’s asking. 

Closing his eyes, he knows he needs to make this answer perfect. It has to relate every reason he has, every apology he would ever make, every rationale for the last 20 days of near radio silence. 

“Did you hear me?” Her voice is still bordering that edge of anger, but now there is a touch of impatience and hurt to it. 

This is his one shot. 

All or nothing. 

He needs to sink this damn basket.

Too many basketball metaphors. 

“Because I got scared and I didn’t know how to talk to you about it without getting even more scared.”

All he hears is silence. 

A deep, uncomfortable silence. For a moment, he’s certain she’s hung up. He’s positive she’s gone. 

He took the shot and he missed…

“Come over.” 

The sound of his own sob caught him so off guard that the phone fumbled out of his hand and slammed against the floor. He snatched it back up, already muttering an apology for dropping her onto the floor. 

“Sorry..I’m sorry I dropped the phone.” 

He can hear her soft chuckle as he pushes himself off the couch, only doing so with entirely too much enthusiasm and ended up tripping over his feet, landing face forward on the floor with a resounding, “FUCK!” 

“Nick!?”

“I’m here...I fell over.” 

“I said come over, not break your leg.”

“Yeah...well, I got a bit over excited.” 

“Clearly.”

“Jess?”

“Yes, Nick? 

“You’re really ok with me coming there?”

“Nick…” she breathed heavily, as though contemplating the significance of her next words, “We have a lot to talk about...a lot...but I’m not going to throw away the last three years just because of some cold feet, ok. So, yes. I am sure….Just…”

“Just what, Jess?”

“...Just come home.”

That does it. That gets Nick off the bloody floor and moving. “I’ll be there in...30. Let myself in?”

“Yes. I’ll be here. 

“Bye Jess. I love you.” Wow. He never thought he’d get to say those words again. Never thought he’d say them to her again...they feel miraculous. 

“I love you too, Miller.” 

And with that she’s gone. He stands still for a moment, savouring the last 15 minutes. 15 minutes. That’s all it took to get things moving again. In all of his past relationships, he would never have tried or even bothered to consider having a conversation like the one he and Jess had just had. Or he would have dismissed an attempt like this to get back together with someone as futile. But not with Jess. With Jess, he would go through a thousand conversations just like that if it meant she would give him a second chance. And maybe the fact that he’s able to set aside those stupid fears and actually talk to her - tell her shit like this, well it might say something very special about his relationship with Jess. It has to because he only had to spend 15 minutes and suddenly he’s back on track again...they’re back on track again. 

_*Go home, Nick.*_

Right, ILN. He wonders momentarily if he should tell Jess about his inner legal monologue...maybe in time. 

_*Just go, Nick.*_

Nick moved quickly through the loft, grabbing his backpack - making sure the box with her engagement ring is still tucked safely in the front pocket. He then pulled his shoes on and walked out the door. 

He’s going home. 

****************************************

Her favourite flower shop was closed - obviously, since it was almost 10 pm, but there was no way in hell he was going to show up at home empty handed. Finally, sucking in a deep breath, he pulled into the parking lot of a rather large Safeway, the only place that was open and sure to have actual flowers. He just hoped that Jess would not realize the flowers were from a some generic supermarket - he knew how she felt about places that were not co-ops, farmer markets, locally grown or insert non-mainstream type thing. He often joked that you could take the girl out of Portland, but you couldn't take Portland out of the girl. 

A comment which usually garnered him a slap on the arm, and then a bonus weekend trip to the farmer’s market. 

The Safeway’s practically empty. He spies a couple homeless guys wandering near the deli section, a few elderly ladies stocking up on produce and one rather frightening black drag queen arguing with a clerk about the cost of Miller Lite. He avoids all of them and heads straight to the flowers. 

Yellow daisies. There’s one bunch left, he grabs them and moves straight to the check out...but then stops and detours into the chocolate aisle. 

None of these are ok. They are all mass produced crap - stuff she refuses to eat. 

_*Flowers are good enough, Nick.*_

“Shut up ILN, let me have this one moment of inspiration, okay? 

He grabs a few bars of Green & Blacks...it might not be her favourite, but it’ll do until he can actually make an effort tomorrow. 

God, please let there be a tomorrow…

He hurries back to the check-out, literally tossing the items at the poor cashier, frantically pulling out his credit card and shoving it into the poor kid’s face. 

“You ok, sir?” The girl looks genuinely concerned.

“Yeah...I’m trying to make up with my fiancé after I almost called off our wedding, but now she wants me to come home and talk and I’m fucking nervous and don’t know if I should bring something other than flowers or do you think flowers are going to be ok fuck I should just get her something else, right I mean flowers how lame is that no no its fine just take my card oh crap that’s not my credit card I just gave you my library card guess you can’t use that huh unless I can borrow the stuff no never mind bad joke yeah, here’s my actual credit card can I just swipe or do I need to sign something Holy fuck.” 

He suddenly realized that not only is the girl now looking at him like he is truly an insane person, but that he pretty much yelled that entire stream of consciousness word vomit to the entire store. 

“I’m sorry. I’m just nervous.”  

The girl rolls her eyes and swipes his card. 

While he waits for her put the chocolate bars in a bag, a very loud voice erupts behind him. 

“FUCK, White boy - you need to calm the fuck down!” 

“Excuse me?” He turns around with a look of surprise on his face 

The drag queen is standing behind him, peering at him over a pair of what appear to be rhinestone encrusted cat eye glasses - he momentarily wonders if Jess would like a similar pair. The woman is smiling at him. 

“I said, you need to calm the hell down. You go heading off to see your lady acting like that, she gonna knock you on your ass back out into the street.”

“Uh…”

“I’m Creme de Cockao. I perform in a little drag club down the block, called the Honeysuckle, and baby I am the mistress of romance.”

“It’s - uh - nice to meet you, Ms...uh...Cockao.” There’s a sentence he never exactly expected to say in his entire life...he could feel a blush starting to rise along his neck. 

“HA! Bitch, please, like I’m lady enough to be a Ms. You call me Creme or you call me nothing. Unless you want to ask about my big ol’ Cockao.” 

“Uh...I...I...Right. Sorry.” 

“My word, you are blushing redder than a sub’s ass on spanking night down at the Eagle! Don’t be sorry. Now, what’s all this is for? Besides you losing your pretty little white head over your lady.” 

“I’m sorry...what night…The Eagle…where…what? I’m going to...uh…”

The clerk, who was clearly enjoying watching the encounter playing out at her till, cleared her throat and held up Nick’s purchases and credit card. “Your things, sir. Good luck.”

Taking them from her, he turned back to the rather overwhelming presence behind him, “Well, it was nice meeting you, Creme. Maybe I’ll come see your...”

“What stupid ass thing did you do?” Creme jabs a very long fingernail that appears to have clusters of diamonds glued to it at him. 

Nick leans back instinctively, he really did not want that nail anywhere near his face, he could just picture the gash if one of them went rouge. Part of him wanted to flee and just get home to Jess, the other felt oddly comforted by the drag queen’s curiosity and what appeared to be almost genuine concern. 

“I uh, almost ended things with my fiancé and uh, I think we might be making up tonight. At least I hope so.”

“I didn't ask you what you were doing now, did I? I asked what did you DO.”

“Oh, right…I uh…I got scared and without giving her a reason called off the engagement. Then I kinda went into hiding for the past month.”

“And why did you get scared?” 

“Because...uh...because well...look this is really weird to be talking to you - a complete stranger - about this in the middle of a Safeway.”

“I’m no stranger, honey. I’m Creme de Cockao. And I am trying to help your ass.” 

“Oh. Right…I got scared because I thought she didn’t deserve me. 

Creme de Cockao humphed and waved her…talons…around in front of his face. “Of course she doesn’t deserve your stupid lily white ass. I haven’t met a single woman yet who deserved the idiot they actually decide they love, but listen here white boy…you listening?”

“Um…yeah.”Although Nick was still trying not to take offence at the whole lily white ass comment. 

“She said yes, right? When you asked her to marry her?”

“Yes.”

“Then she doesn’t care if she deserves you or not…she just wants you. The deserving shit comes later when you’re doing all those fucking cute things white married couples do like visit Pottery Barn or some shit like that. Right now, all she knows is that her life isn’t fucking complete without you in it. That’s what you need to be worried about, white boy. So what are you doing to do about it? How you gonna get her back?”

Nick looked down at the bouquet of flowers in his hand and frowned. “I got flowers.”

She snorted. “That sad ass bunch of yellow shit? Who is that going to impress? No one? YOU!” She pointed at the cashier. “If your man broke up with you and then came crawling back with a bag of lame chocolate bars and some sad little daisies...wouldyou be impressed.”

Clearly not really wanting to actually engage with this whole situation, the girl shrugged, and then smiled. “Depends, is he good in bed?”

“NOW YOU I LIKE!” Creme screamed. 

Nick looked desperately towards the door. He contemplated making a run for it, but was pretty sure that Creme could probably outrun him, even in whatever size heels she was wearing. He just wanted to get home. 

“Look, I know its not much, but its what I have to work with. Nothing else is open and…” he swung around to point at the cashier, “I am unbelievable in bed.”

The girl smiled at him and winked. 

He felt a hand on his shoulder, turning him around. “Sugar, I know. You’re trying to make do with a shitty situation...but you did some serious shit to your lady, I can always tell when things are nasty...and you gotta make up for it.”

“And I will...but I can’t get any of the things she likes right now. I will tomorrow. I promise. I just need to get to her. 

“You got that ring?” 

Nick’s eyes narrowed, suspicious. “Y..yeah.”

“Sweetheart, I’m not gonna steal the damn thing - I get engagement rings aplenty down at the club...but if you think that some fucking flowers and crappy ass bars of brown shit are gonna cut it tonight, you deserve to be alone.”

“Then what the hell am I supposed to do?”

“Did she tell you get your ass over there?”

“Yes.”

“Then you’re the fucking bouquet of flowers! You’re the damn chocolates. You gotta get there, and make a fucking grand gesture!”

“How?”

“Boy, if you’re so pig headed that you can’t figure out what you need to do by now, then Mama can’t help you. But use the motherfucking ring, Frodo!” 

Nick stared at her for a moment. Then a smile started to blossom over his face. Of course. The ring. He looked back at the flowers, which had seemed so perfect a moment ago now seemed drab and sad and just a little pathetic. They were never going to work. It was the ring that mattered. But more importantly, it was them that mattered...he and Jess. That was all that had to be said. They were Nick and Jess - two people where we so perfectly matched they could accomplish anything. He didn’t need flowers. He didn’t need chocolates. He just needed to be with her and just tell her everything that needed saying. 

He thrust out the flowers at Creme. “Here, they’re shitty ass flowers, I know. But please have them, as a thank you for now. I’ll buy you a drink when we come see you at your bar.” 

“I fucking hate yellow, but thank you. Course you could also give me the chocolates.” 

“No, these I keep. We’ll need them as fuel for all the sex I hope to be having later.”

“Good answer, white boy. Now get...before you lose your nerve.”

“Thanks. And it was nice...uh...meeting you.” Nick took off towards the exit. He stopped at the front doors, turning back to wave he saw Creme putting the flowers up to her nose and taking a sniff, until she saw him and yelled “GET!”

With that he was gone. 

***************************************************

He opened the front door to the building quietly. They had picked this place because it felt perfect - a small low rise building in West LA that had an old 1950s charm about it. As though it was the kind of building you’d see in old film noir movies. The elevator had not been upgraded since the 70s, which was fine since everyone just used the large grand staircase that dominated the middle of the building. 

Nick took the stairs two at a time. They lived on the top floor, in a largish corner suite that included a turret with built in window seat, which was undoubtably Jess’ favorite element. He took a moment at the top of the stairs to calm down and steady his breathing. Then he walked slowly to the door (their door!) 

He reached into his pocket for his key and was about to slide it into the lock, when he realized he needed to do something before going inside. He reached into his backpack and pulled out the ring. He needed to give Jess her grand gesture. 

He knocked.

He could hear her moving. Shuffling closer to the door, she was wearing her bunny slippers...he would bet money on it.  

As he heard the the dead bolt being thrown back, he lowered himself down onto one knee. 

When Jess opened the door, she came into contact with her (ex?) finance kneeling in their doorway, holding her engagement ring up to her. He looked up at her. 

“Please don’t say anything for a second, ok?”

She nodded.

“A drag queen told me tonight that I needed to make a grand gesture if I was going to actually accomplish what I hope will happen tonight… 

“A drag queen…?”

“I’ll explain later. But Jess…” Nick took a deep breath. All or nothing. 

_*Do it. Get her back.*_

“When I asked you to marry you the first time, I was sure. I was sure that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life. What we have together is...well...it is better than anything I thought I would ever have in a relationship. It is better than anything I could dream about, and that’s because of you. You’re perfect. In every single way. You’re perfect. You make me be a better man. And I love you for that. But more than that, I love you for you. I love you for us. 

Then, 20 days ago, old Nick came back - with his insecurities and his fears and his stupid ideas about life and love and everything. And I let him take over. And I said a lie. I said I couldn’t marry you. I said I wouldn’t marry you. Well...that was a lie. And it was the worst lie I’ve ever told because it took you away from me. It...no...I broke us apart. For the last 20 days, every single second has been torturous for me. Every single one. But I can promise you that I will never let that happen again. I can’t promise that old Nick isn’t going to come back, that I won’t get insecure or scared again...but I can promise that when it does happen, I’ll talk to you so we can fix it before it gets worse. 

Jess. My love. My Jess. I am so so sorry. I want to marry you. I want to have a family with you. So, will you please please take your ring back?

Will you please marry me? For real this time - no interruptions in the plans?”

Jess knelt down. And slid her cool hands over his sweaty warm ones. She smiled. And oh my god, what an amazing feeling to have her smiling at him again. 

Calmly, she stared at him. Searching his face - for what he wasn’t entirely certain. But as he felt his eyes start to tear up again, he saw something even more amazing - the smile on her face blossomed into one of her radiant dazzling smiles. 

And with it came, “Yes. Yes, Nick Miller, I will.” 

 


End file.
